


Give You the World

by BubbleGumLizard



Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Victorian, M/M, Mycroft IS the British Government, Secret Relationship
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2015-12-20
Updated: 2015-12-19
Packaged: 2018-05-07 19:24:36
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,511
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/5468156
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/BubbleGumLizard/pseuds/BubbleGumLizard
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>Gregory Lestrade is twenty-five years old and sick of playing nice in a society that considers his desire aberrant.  He's nearly at his breaking point when he meets Mycroft Holmes, who is the epitome of respectability -- and also extremely gorgeous and as attracted to Gregory as Gregory is to him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Give You the World

**Author's Note:**

> Disclaimer: I'm not a historian. My knowledge of history comes from my English degree and television, so it's assuredly flawed. I'm mainly just making stuff up, so suspension of disbelief is great and all that. If historical inaccuracies bother you, this may not be for you. :-)
> 
> I recently changed my user name, I used to be MaeBelleSarah.
> 
> This is based on a prompt that reads: "Greg learn piano because he knows Mycroft like it better, and decides to compose a little piece for the man as christmas present"
> 
> This is where my brain went with it. We'll probably get to actually filling the prompt at some point, but this is chapter one. Enjoy!

This was what Gregory hated about his life. Being social, pretending to be normal, acting as if everything were fine when all he wanted was to eschew the social niceties. Instead of being true to himself, however, he found himself arriving at his mother’s best friend’s manor for what was sure to be a dull fortnight to celebrate Christmas.

He allowed himself a heavy sigh and heard a sharp _tsk_ from his mother. He turned to look at her as insolently as he dared. “Gregory Lestrade, you will not embarrass me this time,” she said firmly.

After a moment of glaring, Gregory nodded. His mother had promised that if he had misbehaved in any way, she would have his father sell his favorite horse. Josephine was his prized possession and his father was feeble-minded enough to listen to whatever mother said, so Gregory was forced to comply, whether he wanted to or not.

“There are sure to be some lovely young ladies at the parties they will have here,” his mother said slyly, watching him out of the corner of her eye.

Gregory wanted to scoff, but he forced himself to look interested in that news. He didn’t want to hear more talk of his disinterest in women. That surely wouldn’t bode well for him. If he didn’t start playing along soon, he would be forced into a marriage. He was only twenty-five, so he had plenty of time before his parents were truly desperate, but he didn’t want his tendencies to become obvious. The last thing he needed was to be accused of something nasty.

They arrived at the manor and Gregory descended the carriage, surveying the house as a footman helped his mother down. There was a line of people assembled inside to meet them, but he wasn’t going anywhere without his mother preceding him. When she was ready and entered the house, he followed at a leisurely pace. He wasn’t going to be disruptive, but he wasn’t going to act like anything other than what he was, bored.

He followed along the introductions, nodding politely at his mother’s friend, her husband, and her younger son, a surly-looking teenager named Sherlock who Gregory immediately liked. When he was introduced to the last member of the Holmes family, a man Gregory’s age named Mycroft, Gregory was prepared to be just as bored.

When the two young men met eyes, however, it was like a shock went through Gregory. Mycroft Holmes was gorgeous. Intense blue-grey eyes met Gregory’s warm brown ones, looking as startled as Gregory felt. As Gregory opened his mouth to great this picture of beauty before him, he distinctly saw those eyes sweep all the way down Gregory’s body, widening slightly as they looked back at his face while a pink tongue snaked out to lick Mycroft’s lips.

Perhaps this holiday wouldn’t be so dull after all.

***

Before dinner, while the all of the members of the party were socializing, Gregory made his way casually over to Mycroft, who was sitting alone, watching the others in the room. He didn’t look at Gregory, but kept his vision trained straight ahead.

“Good evening,” Gregory said.

Mycroft finally looked at him, a faint blush rising to his cheeks when he did. What Gregory wouldn’t have given to kiss the soft lips that opened to respond to him. “Good evening.”

Gregory’s mind was a complete blank. He had socialized with men his own age regularly, but for some reason he couldn’t think of a single appropriate thing to bed. The only thing rattling around in his head to say was “Can I take you to bed?” That was hardly appropriate and a good way to get Gregory in a great deal of trouble.

“Another accomplished conversationalist, I see,” Mycroft drawled.

Gregory looked at him with wide eyes, wondering if he were being mocked. “Excuse me?”

Mycroft gave him a small smile. “I couldn’t think of anything to say. You seemed to be in rather the same position.”

Gregory relaxed, returning the smile. “Yes. Well, this is hardly my forte.”

“I understand. I am much more comfortable at my studies.” Mycroft looked Gregory up and down. “What would you rather be doing?”

Gregory couldn’t help the smirk that rose to his face, which seemed to have something of an effect on Mycroft.

“I enjoy training horses,” Gregory said, adding silently, _And deflowering sexy, aristocratic men._ He could tell that Mycroft was unused to the sort of attention he was getting from Gregory. It was clear by the way that Mycroft was blushing and his eyes widened at everything Gregory said that was even remotely suggestive as their conversation continued.

Gregory had spent his fair share of time in broom cupboards when he was at school, fumbling awkwardly with boys who would never admit to what had happened, even to Gregory. Since school had ended, his chances for certain types of recreation had been minimized, leaving him resorting to various servants in his home and those of his association. It had been a long time since he had met someone of interest of his own social standing, so this was certainly something to be pursued.

As dinner was announced and the moved to leave the room, Gregory purposefully bumped his hand into Mycroft’s hand, watching his reaction carefully.

Mycroft pulled his hand away from Gregory’s as if it had burnt him. He opened his mouth as if he were going to say something, but he didn’t, just turning and walking away.

Gregory watched him go, thinking. Perhaps he wasn’t ready yet. It was clear that he was inexperienced, perhaps he would need some more encouragement. Gregory turned his attention to the young woman who was sitting next to him, a girl from the neighboring manor. He smiled and joked, laughing at her silly jokes while he watched Mycroft out of the corner of his eye, wondering what he was discussing with the girl sitting next to him, who seemed enraptured with him.

After dinner was over and they had retired to a parlor to socialize, Gregory found himself sitting next to the same girl, carrying on the same, dull conversation. Noticing his mother watching him, he tried to look as interested in it as possible, while watching Mycroft across the room.

Some vapid, silly girl was sitting at the piano, playing a song. It was fairly simple, but Mycroft was totally engaged in her performance, an easy smile on it.

Never being one to share, jealousy flared in Gregory’s chest, making him want to jump up, grab Mycroft, and drag him to the nearest bedroom. Years of training himself to act normally took over and he smiled pleasantly at the girl by his side.

“Would you care to go listen to the music?” he asked, standing and offering her his arm. She nodded and smiled, standing and taking his arm.

Gregory led the way to the piano, standing next to Mycroft and nodding politely at the girl who was playing. “Lovely tune, isn’t it?” Gregory asked Mycroft.

“Yes,” Mycroft agreed. “I must confess, I adore the piano. I am an abysmal player myself, so I quite enjoy listening to those who are gifted with the instrument.”

Gregory cursed himself for discontinuing his piano lessons when he was young. He had shown a talent for it, but, being generally contrary, had refused his lessons and wouldn’t practice. It had been a minor act of rebellion, but it was one that he now regretted.

“Yes, it does something exciting to the blood, doesn’t it?” Gregory asked, leaning in closely so only Mycroft could hear him. Their hands were close together, so he reached out with his little finger and touched Mycroft’s hand, sure that no one could see the action.

Mycroft glanced around and then locked eyes with Gregory, turning his hand and gently holding the digit, a blush rising to his cheeks. He cleared his throat, took a large step away from Gregory, and smiled awkwardly.

Good. That was good.

***

Later that night, when everyone had retired for the night, Gregory stealthily left the bedroom that had been given to him and made his way to the room he had seen Mycroft enter for the evening. He knocked gently, barely loud enough to be heard on the inside, and then slipped into the room.

Mycroft was sitting in the bed, reading a book. He watched Gregory, his face unreadable. “You’re here,” he said finally.

“I am,” Gregory said, approaching the bed. “Is that okay?”

Mycroft looked away. “Do you know who I am, Gregory?”

“Mycroft Holmes? I know your family is important, but beyond that…”

“I run the country,” Mycroft said simply. “Or I will, once my mother decides to pass the job to me.”

Gregory chuckled. “Really?” he asked. His smile faded when he saw the look on Mycroft’s face. Of course he knew that there was one person who really ran the country, and it wasn’t the queen. He had no idea that he was standing in that man’s bedroom until now, however. This could be very, very bad for Gregory if Mycroft wanted it to be.

“I should go,” Gregory said, turning to leave.

“Wait!” Mycroft said, sitting up straight. “I—I don’t want you to leave. Isn’t that strange?”

Gregory smiled, taking a few steps closer to him. When he was close enough, he reached out and gently touched Mycroft’s cheek, smiling as Mycroft flinched and then relaxed into the caress. “It isn’t strange. You’ve really never…” he trailed off, not entirely sure if he should finish the question.

“Never what?” Mycroft asked, his face guarded.

“Indulged?” Gregory asked, letting his hand drift down to Mycroft’s neck.

Mycroft made a small, breathy noise as Gregory’s hand touched a sensitive spot. “I didn’t—I didn’t know that there were others like me.”

“Others like you?” Gregory asked. He realized what Mycroft meant and he grinned. “You didn’t think that there were other men who liked men?”

Mycroft blushed. “Well, I’m an aberration. It’s unnatural. And as I’ve never known another man to express an interest…” he trailed off, meeting Gregory’s eyes.

Gregory brought his hands up to cup Mycroft’s face and leaned down, kissing him softly on the lips. He closed his eyes as Mycroft kissed back, savoring the blissful sensation of Mycroft’s lips, feeling like his whole body was on fire. He pulled away just far enough to speak, his forehead resting against Mycroft’s. “I’m expressing an interest,” he whispered, nuzzling Mycroft’s cheek and then kissing him again.

Mycroft reached up and wrapped his arms around Gregory’s neck, which made Gregory bend at a very uncomfortable angle. Gregory chuckled and took the book off of Mycroft’s lap, pushing him sideways so he was lying down, and lay next to him on the bed, propped up on one elbow.

“You’re so gorgeous,” Gregory said, his eyes drifting down to where Mycroft’s night shirt was gaping open at the collar.

Mycroft blushed, leaning forward and kissing Gregory. Pleased at the show of initiative, Gregory rewarded the action by moving his hand to rest it on Mycroft’s hip. When Mycroft broke away to look down at the hand, Gregory let it slowly slide down Mycroft’s body and graze over the quickly-forming bulge in the front of Mycroft’s nightclothes.

Mycroft gasped, watching Gregory with wide eyes and Gregory smiled, slipping his hand into the Mycroft’s nightclothes and groaning when he gripped a hot, hard cock. “You’re so big,” Gregory murmured, leaning in for another kiss. Mycroft moaned in response as Gregory started stroking him.

Gasping, Mycroft pulled his hips away, staring at Gregory. He was breathing heavy, his eyes wide as he looked at Gregory. “What are you doing?” he asked.

Gregory smiled. “You’ve never touched yourself?” he asked gently. Mycroft looked at him with a look that was very familiar to Gregory, a look that meant someone was preparing a speech on the perils of onanism. He pulled Mycroft into a kiss, before shifting so that there was room for Mycroft to lay on his back.

“Lay back,” Gregory said, gesturing. Mycroft looked at him suspiciously, but Gregory just leaned forward and kissed the tip of his nose, thinking about how adorably naive Mycroft was. “Trust me.”

Mycroft did as he was told. Gregory reached into his nightclothes again, starting to stroke again. Mycroft’s eyes went wide, but Gregory just shushed him. “It’s fine,” he said quietly. “Everything is fine, Mycroft.”

When Mycroft opened his mouth to respond, Gregory just leaned forward and kissed him. “I can make you feel so good. Better than you’ve ever felt before. All those feelings you’ve been trying to push back, to hide, I can help you explore those. The things you dream about, the things you think about at night, when you’re trying to resist touching yourself in a way you know will feel wonderful, I can give you all of those. All you have to do is say yes. So no and I’ll leave forever. Say yes and I’ll give you the world.”

Mycroft was moaning while listening to Gregory, whose hand stroked faster and faster the longer he spoke. By the time Gregory was done with his speech, Mycroft had stuffed his fist into his mouth to stop from crying out and was coming all over Gregory’s hand, his hips bucking wildly.

Gregory leaned in for one last kiss as Mycroft relaxed onto the bed, basking in the afterglow of his orgasm.

“That was amazing,” Mycroft said quietly. He sat up suddenly and looked down at his lap, his eyes wide. “My nightclothes! The servants will see…”

“And not care one jot,” Gregory told him with a grin. “They’ll assume you’re a man with healthy appetites.”

“What if they suspect us?” Mycroft asked. “We’ll be ruined.”

Gregory chuckled. “If they suspect us, we’ll be the first to know. A few pounds is a fortune to them and a pittance to us. We’ll have no problems.”

“How often have you done this?” Mycroft asked, relaxing back onto the bed and looking at Gregory curiously.

“This? With someone of your status? Never. I’ve had my share of lovers. No one as beautiful as you, though,” Gregory told him honestly, with a smile.

Mycroft smiled. He reached out and touched Gregory’s chest, covered by a dressing gown, and let it trail down to the slight bulge at Gregory’s front, keeping their eyes locked together.

“Wouldn’t you like to go to sleep?” Gregory asked.

“I’d like to see you more,” Mycroft said a little shyly. “All of you. And touch you. Perhaps…”

“Yes?” Gregory asked, having no clue what Mycroft might suggest.

“I’ve noticed you staring at my mouth.”

Gregory’s mouth was suddenly dry. Was Mycroft suggesting what he thought Mycroft was suggesting? “You what?” he asked, all eloquence leaving him.

“I’ve always thought it might be interesting to—to taste a man. And I’ve noticed you staring at my mouth.” Mycroft licked his lips again and Gregory removed his clothes so quickly that he nearly ripped them.


End file.
